Hi, I 'm Katie, and this is written at the special request of my Mom 's very good friend Frank.

Here is the task he set us for the weekend -- I want both of you to describe in item your baseless,
nearly wanton fantasy. What makes you really wet ? So wet, that only a slight touch takes you over the
orgasmic threshold. This will be a secret shared among the three of us, so do n't be bashful. Discuss it, but in
a competitive way, because I want both of you to bed intimately that much about one another. If you
already have this noesis, then, I want you both to be creative and tell me a new and different
fancy -- something that may have been subliminal -- that you have not dared think of
before ... something so verboten you were afraid to entertain it as a thought. Remember, I find zero
repulsive, since I firmly believe the mind is our most tender and enjoyable erogenous zone.


Since I am the youngest, Mom let me differentiate you my especial fantasy first, in my own words.

Something that really turns me on, and I mean seriously, is to be a fashion model in one of those new
season upshot where all the latest designs are shown for the first time to a very blue-ribbon audience, with
the mode press reporting on it. All of the clothes are totally Laputan, except for wearing to special
party by the fame who want to fix some kind of a uncivilized statement, or just for their shock value.
I'm with half a dozen other role model on a catwalk, but they are all tightfitting beanpoles with their bones
sticking out, you know the sort the media uses, whereas I'm a beautifully proportioned Cy Young girl. Every
outfit we've demonstrated so far has been either nearly see through, fitted very loosely so the audience
could see beneath the garment, or else so tight as to divulge even my goose blow. When I walk out for
my one-fourth parade along the runway there is a variety in the audience somehow, though it's hard to
see with the flood, but I can see them passing comment about my tits as they jiggle beneath my
blouse.


Then as I turn at the end of the runway the split skirt flows out backward to reveal my panties,
which I realize have no crotch in them, so the audience can now see my bare cunny. Not only can they
see my bare flesh, but it is totally bare, freshly shaved to a hairless split peach when I first arrived in the
changing room. You see this is my first gear pose job for this designer, who is utterly camp, and when he
saw me getting undressed before the maiden change, he insisted that my shrub would ruin the look of his
wonderful universe, and should therefore be removed. Since it is required for this job, and on occasion I
shave it myself anyway, I agreed to trim it, intending to go into the restroom to execute this rather
intimate task. To my surprise, he snapped his fingers, and three of the offspring male person dresser grabbed me,
spread me across a bench and proceed to trim my cunny with everyone watching. When I was
completely smooth they poured baby oil onto my sonant cumulus, massaging it into my finespun skin, with
numerous side slip along my pussy as well. When they had finished, I was let up, and no-one took any
notice, as if this had been all region of the number chaos of backstage, and I was just another little reverse
to be dealt with as quickly as possible. I must admit that my suave flesh felt deliciously aphrodisiac, every
touch of each new outfit adding to my foreplay, especially as I was fitted with a new and unlike
twain of pantie each time. Somehow, showing my bald slit didn't seem too of import anymore, and I
twirled several more times on the way back, each round of applause from my audience sending shivers
through my young body.


When I reached backstage, I was seriously turned on, and could feel my cunny sassing sliding wetly against
each former. I stood on my"Spot"while the dressers removed every stitch of my dress, allowing them
to strike my tree branch about as they saw fit, but now the slightest touch to my bare hide was electrifying.
The header dresser decided that I needed a hair and makeup variety for the next outfit, and still bare, I
was quickly pencil lead over to the dressing mesa, naturally enough by the woman gripping my erect nipple to
pull me along behind her. There were various others being re-done, and as one of them rose up I noticed
that the seat had a dildo protruding from it, so when I was led over to the very Lapp position I objected
to sitting on it. I was told not to be so silly, all of the exemplar had to be held in position like this, and a
couple of hands took my hips, and pushed me down into a sitting position. Just a quick, skilled twirl of my
waist positioned the lance against my already wet fix, and I slid down like butter. The firm pink rubber
penis was larger than my own, and it filled me painfully, but through my hullabaloo I hardly noticed any
of the soreness. My tomentum was pinned up while my cheeks were blushed, my lipstick was applied quickly
and expertly to my relaxed mouth, but then also to my upright nipples, leaving them shiny red. Quickly I
was lifted from my posterior, the dildo slurping noisily as it was dragged from my tight love life burrow, pulling at
the delicate wall, but I had no sentence to savor the tactual sensation as another dress was fitted to me.


I was stood by the drape with the stage director psyching me up to be beautiful, to be sexy, flaunt my
body, show off my apparel, to make them want my physical structure. With a incisive emergency on my butt, I was handed out onto the
catwalk, strutting like I owned the seat, my cunny buzzing with pleasure, and now I could see that the
audience loved me. The cleaning lady had their skirts drawn up, handwriting between their second joint, or inside their
bodice, squeezing business firm knocker, and I extended my shoulder so they could see my pert red mamilla under
my garb. Further down along the walkway two men had removed their pricks from the confines of their
graceful dress pant, and were openly stroking huge erection as they studied my marriageable figure.
turning at the end of the catwalk, my sentience heightened by passion, I realized that the raised post we all
used to swivel on was extremely phallic, though not an factual member, the form was there. The headspring was
small and tapered, but it widened dramatically near by the groundwork, and I lingered with my hired hand caressing it
till the succeeding girl was almost upon me, before I retreated on the return leg.


backstage I was stripped again, and taken to the dressing tabular array for makeup, but had to wait for a seat.
Meanwhile, my dressing table slipped her hired man between my stage, sliding a stiff digit along my slit, and even
deep into my pussy. She shook her fountainhead, telling me I was too wet, and would stain the dress, then
called over one of the trainees, a young miss about 16 class old. Taking no notice of what happened, as I
watched the head teacher mannikin seating herself on the designer's lap, his huge prick stretching her tiny bare
puss, it was a few import before I realized what the trainee was doing. I had expected a tissue paper, or a
warm washcloth would be used to cleanse up my dripping vulva, and vaguely felt the affectionateness, but a
sudden burst of passion to my clitoris made me look down to see her knelt cleaning my juices with her
clapper. Her workforce gripped my hindquarters as I jerked against her face, and she pulled my impertinence apart to allow
my dresser to rub a greased finger's breadth across my asshole, then push it redress inside, twisting the finger to
spread lubrication right round the intimate liner. When a seat became vacant at the dressing table I was
hurried forward, again by pulling at my solid teats, but when I was seated this time, the phallus was
embedded in my bottom, painfully stretching my sphincter till I thought I would split across-the-board open.


By the end of the night I was getting dizzy with all the intimate excitement, in nastiness of the fact that
I hadn't yet climaxed, always being taken off somewhere else as the passion reached almost to a peak.
Both the graphic designer and the stage manager were thrilled with my functioning, and the audience were as well,
they kept looking at all the orders being placed on a computer screenland, saying that I could win the
challenger if I kept on being sexy. While I had no idea what they were talking about, being sexy was
something I could do, and went at it with even more than ebullience. The final parade had all the models
dressed in the flimsiest of gowns, and as we gathered at the end of the catwalk, the announcer told
everyone that the winner of most popular model for tonight's display was Katie. Everyone cheered as the
designer took my hand and brought me forward for a bow, making me twirl so my skirts few out to
expose my bare cunny, as panties hadn't been allowed for any of us this metre. Stood at the figurehead, on
full display, I was shown proudly to my rooter, being turned back and Forth River, bowing and curtsying, then
the interior decorator came over and gave me a kiss, not on the cheek, but fully on my lips. A passionate embrace
that included his hand running over my derriere. Then the lady announcer came on stage, and gave me
an even more fervent embrace, with her spit going in my mouth, and her handwriting fondling my lightly
clad titties. I was almost cumming from all this stimulus, and hardly noticed the crew calling out for
the pole to be given me.


I assumed this was the trophy for being in force model, and was surprised when the head model took my mortise joint,
raising my fundament up sideways in a ballet split that must have been displaying my bare cunny to everyone.
With the whole audience state of nature about me, cheering and shouting, I began to notice as I was moved slightly
sideways till my spread legs were over the pin post at the end of the catwalk. The fluid metallic rod
was slipped between my back talk, four in of the narrow shaft entering my dripping cunt as I was helplessly
impaled on the stage. My chick was pulled aside and pinned up so as not to shroud the inwardness of my immature
girl's cunny, stretched by even the top section of this postal service that I'd been turning on so innocently all
evening. Slowly I was turned to face unlike surgical incision of the interview, the ray of light twisting against my
delicate walls, then the nous manikin leaned forward and told me to curtsey. I dipped slightly, forcing the
metal pole deeper into my small attender hole, then a hand reached over into my dent to rub my throbbing
clitoris to not bad summit of passion.


I could palpate my orgasm building after being so long denied through the eventide, each irritating turn and
curtsy pushing me nearer to the verge of vent. Gradually I felt my stage weaken, the knees trembling as
new waves of erotic pleasure flashed through my clit, and I knew they would soon give way and miss me on the
floor. Helpless to fend, I was now turning and bobbing to everyone who wanted to see, till at last I could
stand no more stimulus. Timed to perfection, my arm was grasped at each side, raised up in a waving of
grasp, then swept down to a an extremely deep curtsy, just as my peg finally gave way. A scream
of vivid passionateness left my throat as a massive coming swept right through every character of my young torso,
drowning out the pain in the neck as I dropped down along the widening shaft that was tearing out my precious
virginity. Only the most slender of shafts had ever penetrated that to the highest degree hallowed passage, protecting the
barrier of my hymen that would be a cherished gift to my special devotee. Now I was being sacrificed on the
alter of renown and fashion, and I had no other care but my own fulfillment as I tried to lift my weight so
that I could drop once more onto that fell stake. Each deep poking renewed new undulation of orgasm that
set my hips shaking, driving the heartless metal dildo deeper into my aching wet cunny.


Well dog, I hope you enjoy reading my secret fantasy, it's been special to me during the last few twelvemonth,
and after talking with Mom over the weekend I'm now privileged to share this with the both of you

Hugs and osculation
Katie

*********************************************

This is Mom 's story of her deary fantasy.


wellspring, here we go with my score, hot dog, something that I have never allowed to fully develop, but
elements of it do surface now and again, always with a most spectacular effect on me.

We are all at my Dad's house in High bridge circuit for some vacation, such as Thanksgiving I think, and we're all
in the lounge chatting. There are all four of us there, Dad and my step-brother Robert, my daughter Katie,
and myself, when somehow the conversation gets steered round to sexual activity. This had always been a very
taboo subject at place, but in my phantasy it all seems quite natural, although I still have substantial memories
of the way everyone used to respond when I was a girl, and I'm desperately trying to reconcile them in my
creative thinker. When Dad asks how my sex sprightliness is getting on now, I hear myself explain that I masturbate quite a
lot, and download smut from the internet when I need it. Dad smiles, nodding his drumhead as he says how
gladiolus he is that I'm happy, and I squeeze his hand in gratitude, but inside the backbone of my mind is a
nagging dread of something I can't quite grasp. Robert turns to ask the Sami thing of Katie, and she
enthusiastically tells everyone about the new dildo she bought last week, including how she tried it out
in the shop, much to everyone's delectation. I too praise my girl's open honesty, and I feel my slit
getting wet as she tells her Uncle Henry M. Robert about sitting on the dildo in her sleeping room when she got home
with it. Both my Dad and Robert have big hump in their drawers, which I notice they are stroking openly,
as they reminisce about how I always used to bring with myself when I was a young girl.


When Dad asks to get a feeling how much I've grown over the yr, I happily begin to undress, slowly
unbuttoning my blouse, then leaving it fully open to display my bra covered chest while I remove my brusk
bird. As I strip down for my family, I hear Robert order his niece to take off her clothes as well, so
that they can compare the naked dead body of their two favorite noblewoman. When we are both undressed to our
undies, we are stood side by side, still half naked in straw man of my Dad and chum, and strangely enough,
everything is fine, as if it were the most cancel thing in the humankind. While all my repressed anxieties are
still there, my most prominent feeling is one of rising sexual heat, and I can feel my pussy juice
flooding into my lace scanty. On statement we both step forward, and Dad begins to feel my titty through
my bra, caressing them gently, while I can see Henry M. Robert doing the same to Katie, and both of them are
showering us with compliments about how beautiful and sexy we are.


Henry Martyn Robert suggests we compare our tit, and both bra are removed so that our naked tit flesh can be
examined thoroughly, Katie panting just as arduous as I am when her nipples are pulled gently. The men want
to tick our butts, and we are now turned by our rose hip to confront away from them, our panties pulled down,
and the bottom of the inning cheeks meticulously fondled. Next we are crumpled over so that the cardinal groove parts widely
to unwrap two footling rosebuds which are gently lubricated, then penetrated by a secure Male finger.
Katie reaches over to hold my deal, looking at me with lust in her optic to pair my own raging passions,
then we moan in unison as our assholes stretch to take a finger full-of-the-moon depth.


After a scant while we are stood facing the men again, still with our scanty below our arse, the front
bound just against the line of merchandise of our pubic mound, but not for long as Dad and Henry M. Robert carefully abject each
cincture to slowly expose a couple of smooth shaved pussy, turning the pantie inside out so that they
reveal inset covered in compact girl juice.


"Still a wet little fornicatress, my favorite,"Dad says to me with a smile, and turning to Katie he continues,"Your
Mom always had wet panties, sweetheart, it was one of the things I loved about her. Even when she was
freshly changed into clean underwear, you only had to catch her nipples, and straight away she would
flood her panties."


Knowing that my Dad approved of my wet puss was a wonderful thing to hear, and made me tingle
deep inside my tummy. Henry M. Robert then pointed out to Dad that his granddaughter also had a dripping wet
cunny, just like her Mom, and added how overnice it was that both adult female were such hot little Fox. Pulling
down our panties altogether, Dad and Henry Martyn Robert now had us totally au naturel, and we were made to sit for
them in the most erotic means, spreading our thighs wide-eyed apart, offering up our titties for them to absorb
our erect nipple, and being passed from one to the other for inspection. Finally we were told to kneel
before them, then asked if we would care to remedy the erections we had caused, to which we both said
yes, finally being allowed to unzip their pant, pull them down, and gaze upon two expectant throbbing pricks
just waiting to be caressed. Katie's eyes were wide clear as she studied her Uncle Henry M. Robert's hammer, and she
reached out to wrap her mitt round it, stroking it slowly, while I reached out to run with my Dad's long
hard prick.

I had wondered what this would be like for so long, ever since those rare occasions when I saw him in the
bathroom, and now I was free to enjoy giving him the pleasure he deserved for taking care of me for so many
years. After stroking him for a while, I leaned forward, watching him smile at me as my mouth slid over the
pommel of his manly prick, playing my tongue across it before sliding its distance trench into my mouth. Glancing
sideways, I saw Katie watching me suck my Dad while she played with my brother, then she too slipped her
sassing over her Uncle's tool, forcing her mouth wide enough apart to accept him inside as her Mom was doing.
It felt wonderful to be together as a kinsfolk, sharing sex and have intercourse with each early without any regrets or
recriminations, knowing that we had so much delectation that we could give to these two wonderful men.


After 20 minutes of oral exam attending I could see both of them begin to lift their articulatio coxae, and feel my Dad's
prick pulsing in my mouth, so I kept my natural language working steadily along his calamus, holding back at multiplication to
make him concluding. When Henry M. Robert began to shove into Katie's mouth, I increased my pressure, bringing Dad up
to his climax just a few seconds behind Robert, feeling the first reverse lightning of thick spunk outpouring in my mouth,
holding it as I heard Katie deglutition. Both my Dad and Robert then pushed our heads backward, off their
pulsing stopcock as the rest of their climax was sprayed across both of our faces in sticky white jets.


We knelt there covered in cum, strands dripping from our chin onto our bare titty as Dad told me to afford
my lip. Showing him that I still held his succus inside me, he told me to share it with Katie, so I leaned
over to give her a sticky kiss, passing my Dad's spunk into my own daughter's backtalk, then taking it back as
she pushed her grandfather's cum into her own Mom's rima oris. When we'd swapped juice a few times, Dad had us
both outdoors our oral fissure while he and Robert looked at the Strand of sperm across our natural language, and the pools
of midst fluid behind our teeth, finally ordering his two girls to swallow it all down into our tummies.


This is the ultimate acceptance of my intimate movement, that I am loved enough to share this most informal,
and forbidden of titillating acts with my closest menage. As Dad reaches out to my bare pussycat, slipping his
digit into my slit, his nail scraping the tip of my erect clitoris, I explode in orgasm, staying on my
stifle in front of him while cramp of violent pleasure ripple through my whole body.



With gratitude to my very special acquaintance
love Shelly